


Dennis Gets Arrested

by goddammit_charlie



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammit_charlie/pseuds/goddammit_charlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennis gets arrested. Mac is unhelpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A groan of disappointment rippled across the crowded dance floor as the pounding music dropped and the house lights flickered on, illuminating everyone's sweaty, flushed faces and making them wince in the sudden glare. Mac blinked in confusion, thinking it couldn't possibly be closing time yet, but when he pulled his phone out of his pocket the glowing screen displayed 04:31. It seemed like no time at all since they'd left Paddy's. There had been an unusual lack of fighting among the Gang that evening and after closing time at their own bar, as they were all nicely buzzed and enjoying the rare harmony, they'd decided to hit the clubs and make a night of it. 

Mac looked around for his friends as the club slowly emptied, spilling its flock of staggering drunks out into the pre-dawn stillness of the city. Charlie was with him, they had been dancing together (well, within a few feet of each other - nothing gay, obviously) and Frank had wandered off hours ago to meet his bridge friends, but he had no idea where either Reynolds twin was. 

"Have you seen Dennis and Dee?" he asked Charlie, shouting above the chatter of the remaining partiers and the ringing of his own ears.  
"Dee went home with some guy a while ago. I haven't seen Dennis, he's probably getting laid too," Charlie yelled back. Mac glanced at his phone again - he didn't have any messages. Dennis wouldn't leave with a girl without letting him know. Maybe he was already outside. Mac would have pushed his way out to find him straight away, hating the uneasy feeling he got whenever he lost track of Dennis for any amount of time, but he made himself hang back and wait. He knew that Charlie hated being funnelled through the doors in a crush of unfamiliar bodies, liable to completely freak out if he felt trapped, and he didn't want his best friend's night to end in hyperventilating and screaming. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against a pillar to wait for the crowd to clear.

When they finally made their way out onto the street, they found Dennis with a group of college girls. There were five or six of them, all wearing mini dresses and heels and huddling together in the sharp early morning chill, while Dennis hovered on the periphery like a wolf around a flock of sheep, leaning in to whisper something here, slip a hand across a waist there, looking for a way in. The girls were steadfastly ignoring him, turning their backs to his chatter and sidestepping his grasp. Mac watched with a sinking heart - having his advances rejected always put Dennis in a vile mood, and he didn't look forward to dealing with his roommate's displaced rage alongside the agonising hangover he was sure to have tomorrow - but when Dennis caught sight of his friends, his grin looked genuine and there was no glint of menace in his alcohol-fogged eyes.

"Hey guys!" He stumbled towards them, having apparently lost interest in the visibly relieved women, and slung an arm around each of their shoulders. He had a cigarette in his hand and ash tumbled over Mac's shirt.  
"Hey man, good night?" Charlie slapped him on the back cheerily while extricating himself from the half-embrace. Dennis nodded and leaned more heavily on Mac.  
"Yeah, good" he affirmed with a hazy grin. The three of them set off on the unsteady walk home, Dennis's arm still draped across the back of Mac's neck as they stumbled against each other. 

"Got another one of those?" Mac asked, indicating the cigarette that continued to drop occasional flurries of ash on his shoulder. Dennis shook his head and offered the filter to his mouth. He held onto it as Mac took a long drag. Mac might have felt weird about that, feeling his friend's fingers graze his lips, if he'd been less drunk. He wasn't really a smoker, unlike Dennis who had cut down a lot but still didn't go a day without at least one, but he always craved it when he'd been drinking.

They said goodnight to Charlie at the top of the narrow back street where he lived, and watched him shamble away into the shadows before continuing towards their own home. They were a couple of blocks away when Dennis stopped abruptly.

"Jus' a sec," he mumbled, turning to the wall and unzipping his jeans. Mac turned away and studied a 'no parking' notice intently while Dennis peed. He must have had gallons stored up by the sound of it, and he was still in full stream when Mac's attention was caught by the sound of a car approaching, slowing, pulling up to the kerb beside them. He turned towards it.

"Oh shit dude!"

Mac's shout made Dennis whip round to see what had happened, spraying an arc of beer piss across the sidewalk as he turned. He stopped dead, cock still hanging out, as the door of the black-and-white patrol car opened and a cop climbed out.

"Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken a ton of "artistic licence" with the police stuff because to be honest I don't even know what their procedure for this stuff would be in the UK where I live, let alone in the US. So, if you're the kind of person who is really bothered by factual errors, sorry about that.

Dee pulled on her jeans and shirt and cast her eyes around the room. Outside the sun was rising somewhere behind the tall buildings, but the bedroom was still pretty dark and she couldn't remember where her bra had ended up. She took out her phone and directed the dull glow of the screen around the floor, carefully shielding it with her hand to avoid waking the slumbering man in the bed. She could just leave without it if she had to, but it was her favourite and good bras are as rare as gold dust and twice as costly, so she really didn't want to lose it. Shining her scant light over the desktop she finally found it slung over a Lego model of the Starship Enterprise, and rolled her eyes as she stuffed the lacy fabric into her purse. Underwear, phone, purse, keys... she glanced around the room once more and decided it was time to disappear. Her hand was on the doorknob when the first few bars of the Flawless remix blared through the silence, making Dee jump almost out of her skin. She snatched her phone out of her pocket and jabbed at the reject call button, but her night's host was already shifting and sitting up in the bed. Abandoning stealth, she fled down the hall and let herself out before he could say a word.

Her phone rang again as she stepped out onto the street, and she answered it with a savage "WHAT?"  
"Hey, it's me." Dennis sounded subdued and tired. "Can you come pick me up please?"  
"It's six in the morning dickbag, and you've just fucked up my exit. You can walk home!"  
"Please, Dee. Someone has to come and sign me out."  
"...Where are you?"  
"Police station."  
"Oh for Christ's sake, what did you do?"  
"I'll tell you about it when you get here, could you please just come take me home?"  
Dee thought for a moment. She didn't want to trek across town at this ungodly hour for the sake of her shithead brother, but it would provide some good ammo for pissing him off in future.  
"Fine," she relented "but I haven't got my car so you'd better have cab fare."

When she got to the station Dennis was slumped in a plastic chair in the reception area with his head in his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody and his hair stood in tufts like he'd been dragging his fingers through it. Dee approached the cop at the desk and pointed to her brother.  
"I'm here to collect him."  
Dennis raised his head at the sound of her voice. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, set in deep purple hollows against the stark white of his face. A graze above his right eyebrow was crusted black with dried blood, and a colourful bruise was growing around it.  
"You look like shit." She turned back to the officer and signed some paperwork. When this was done, the officer leaned across the desk to speak softly into Dee's ear.  
"Make sure there's someone around to keep an eye on him, okay? He seems calmer now but when he was brought in we were concerned he would hurt himself. If he gets like that again I think you'd best take him down to the ER."  
Dee waved off the woman's concerns.  
"He's fine, he gets crazy like that all the time. It's no big deal."  
The officer frowned in concern and added,  
"I don't know who 'Mac' is, but you might want to keep him away from him for a while, given the way he was yelling about him. All we could gather was that he's a son of a bitch."

In the cab, Dennis told Dee about the arrest. Reading between the lines of his biased telling, she guessed that he had been issued a fine for the public urination and then arrested when he got aggressive. He'd been put in a cell to sober up ("sleep it off, they said! Like anyone could be expected to lie down and sleep in that fetid pit!") but he wouldn't stop hammering his fists against the walls, and when he started to bash his head as well they had resorted to cuffing him to a nailed-down chair to prevent him from doing any damage to himself. Dee winced at the idea of Dennis being restrained like that. He claimed he had given up and decided to behave so they'd release him, but she suspected the truth was that he'd screamed himself hoarse and thrashed until he was too physically exhausted to continue. His voice was cracked and husky, and she noticed vivid bruises forming on his wrists. Either way, once he'd stopped acting completely crazy the cops had decided to release him into the care of his next of kin, probably eager to get him out of their hair before he kicked off again. 

Before asking her next question, Dee braced herself for the onslaught it would provoke.  
"What about Mac? Why didn't you ask him to come get you?"  
After the cop's warning she expected a tirade of furious raving, but Dennis just shook his head and looked out the window at the streets of Philly rolling by. His hoarse voice was flat and cold when he spoke.  
"He fucking left me. Legged it as soon as the cop appeared."  
Dee had never liked Mac much, and she certainly didn't hold any misconceptions of his bravery, but she found herself slightly surprised - he might be annoying and a pussy, but he was ridiculously in love with Dennis and would follow him to the ends of the earth, everybody knew that.  
"What a dickmunch."

Dee offered to let Dennis stay at her place, phrasing it as an off-handed hint to avoid making it sound like she was concerned or anything, but he shook his head and after dropping her off, directed the cab driver to the apartment he and Mac shared.

"Dennis!"  
Mac leapt from the couch and threw himself at his roommate as soon as the front door opened, but seeing Dennis's face he pulled himself up short and decided against the hug he'd been going for. Dennis slipped past him and marched towards his room, and Mac followed with garbled apologies spilling from his tongue.  
"I am so sorry dude, I've been so worried. I ran because I was holding some E, I thought he'd just give you a ticket, I never would have left you if I thought you were going to get taken away..." Mac's voice was shrill, cracking. "Please Dennis, I'm so sorry."  
Dennis slammed his bedroom door, leaving Mac to direct his pleas to the impassive wood.  
Mac paced the living room in a frenzy of guilt and regret. He couldn't believe he'd been such a coward. Last night at Paddy's, when they had decided to go to some clubs, he had remembered that he'd stashed a few pills in the keg room and decided to bring them and make some cash. He hadn't shifted many, having been out of the game for too long - none of these kids knew or trusted him - so he'd still had most of the supply in his pocket when the cop pulled up. He'd panicked, disappeared down an alley, assumed Dennis would be cited with a fine and would meet him back at home a few minutes later. The minutes had stretched into hours and he had left one voicemail after another, text after text, growing increasingly frantic. He had called the police station, but when they picked up he had frozen, unable to think of a way to ask about Dennis without revealing that he'd run away from the cop, so he hung up. Now Dennis hated him and he felt like the world was collapsing around him.


	3. Chapter 3

Mac wanted to batter down the door and rush to Dennis's side to beg his forgiveness, but he knew that pestering him would just make him more angry. It was almost impossible to back off and give him the space he needed, especially when there was nothing Mac could do but pace the apartment feeling like a cyclone was tearing through his chest, whipping his breath away and churning him up until nothing fit together any more. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he knocked on Dennis's door. There was no response; he hadn't expected one.  
"Dennis? Is there anything you need? I can put some coffee on if you want?"  
Still nothing. Maybe he was asleep. The sun glared high above the rooftops now, and Mac's eyes felt raw. He decided to head to his own room and try to sleep for a while, at least to take a break from the maelstrom inside him. As he turned towards his room, he heard the sliding of a bolt. Dennis had unlocked his door.  
Mac waited, but the door showed no sign of opening. He heard the creak of mattress springs as Dennis climbed back into bed. Mac's brow furrowed in confusion. Dennis always slept with his door locked. He knew Mac was nearby. Why had he unlocked it? Did he want Mac to go in? Why hadn't he just opened the door? He dithered for a long moment, trying to imagine what Dennis could be planning, and finally moved towards the door. He opened it gingerly - with Dennis he was not prepared to rule out booby traps or the barrel of a gun waiting on the other side.  
"Den?"  
The curtains were closed against the sunny spring morning, and Dennis was only visible on the bed as a slight rise in the blankets. Mac crept closer.  
"Hey man, if you want me to get out just say the word - I just..."  
Dennis interrupted wordlessly by reaching across to turn back the blankets on the unoccupied side of the bed, still keeping his face turned away. Now Mac understood. Usually when Dennis had a bad day he couldn't bear to be touched, his skin would crawl at the pressure even of the wrong texture of sweater and Mac would be very careful to avoid laying a hand on his shoulder or brushing against his knee; but occasionally there would be a day when he craved the grounding reassurance of someone else's body. When he was like that he would usually suggest a movie night. They'd settle on the couch, the apartment dark except for the flickering light of the TV, and Dennis would lean his head on Mac's chest and draw Mac's arm around himself like a comforter. Sometimes they'd watch movies all night. Sometimes they'd doze off and wake up tangled in each other's arms. They never mentioned it afterwards. Mac knew that these nights only happened when Dennis was having a really hard time, so he tried not to look forward to them too much.

Following Dennis's silent instruction, Mac climbed into the bed. He laid down on his side, facing Dennis's back, and Dennis took his wrist and pulled his arm over him. Mac scooted closer so that his chest was against Dennis's back, feeling his narrow rib cage rise and fall with each breath. He felt like this was where he belonged: protector, keeping his friend safe from the world.  
"This doesn't mean I forgive you." It was the first sentence Dennis had uttered since arriving home.  
"I know," Mac murmured.

Dennis woke up feeling stifled and sweaty. Mac was still curled around him, radiating heat like a goddamn nuclear reactor. He shifted slightly and his sleeping roommate pulled him tighter. He felt Mac's hard-on against his ass - typical! - but he didn't move away. Mac's arm was still slung over him, hand curled in a loose fist on the sheets in front of Dennis's chest, and Dennis reached for it. His own fingers were long and bony, while Mac's were stockier and looked stronger. He laced them together, palm to palm, and gently brushed his thumb across the warm familiar skin. He was still pissed with Mac for abandoning him, but after getting home last night he had remembered his friend's pocketful of E and realised the reason behind it, and had seen his puffy distraught face, and he knew he felt terrible. Dennis had felt pretty awful himself after the exhausting meltdown at the station, so he had been content to let his need for comfort outweigh his anger. He couldn't just let it slide completely though. He needed some kind of revenge. He wriggled his hips, just a tiny movement against the sleeping body behind him, and smirked as the pressure of the boner hardened against him, bringing his own dick to attention in response. He was forming a plan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for dubious consent and non-consensual restraint/bondage.  
> Please note that this chapter takes the fic from relatively clean to completely explicit! Don't read it in church. (Or do, I'm not your mum)

Mac woke with a start and opened his eyes to see nothing but pale blue cotton filling his field of vision, hovering an inch from his nose. After blinking for a moment he realised he was looking at a shirt. Someone was sitting on him, straddling his waist, and leaning forward to reach up behind his head so their chest was almost touching his face. He would have yelled and fought, but his unconscious mind had already recognised Dennis. Dennis? What was he doing? Mac wriggled and tried to sit up, and as Dennis sat back, bringing his face into view, Mac realised he couldn't move his arms. A slow smile lit his captor's face.  
"Dennis? What..."  
"Let's see how _you_ like being stuck in handcuffs," came the smirking response, and that's when Mac started to panic. Dennis jumped off the bed and watched as Mac thrashed and kicked, pulling against the metal cuffs which were looped around the rails of the headboard, both hands meeting behind his head.  
"Let me go, this isn't funny!" he yelled, but Dennis clearly disagreed.  
"Calm down, you'll hurt your wrists," he said, holding up his own bruises to prove it. Mac carried on struggling for a moment just to show that he wasn't taking orders, but he knew it was useless. The headboard was a stylish brushed steel, cold and unyielding, and the cuffs felt more like genuine police issue than flimsy sex toys.  
"What are you going to do?" Mac's eyes were huge and wild, darting to Dennis's face between glances around the room for torture instruments or god knows what.  
"Well, I'm going to get my revenge for last night," Dennis explained, a snake-like glitter in his eyes, "and we're also going to have a bit of fun, okay?"  
"No! Not okay!" Mac's voice was shrill, panicky, and Dennis chuckled as he cupped his prisoner's cheek in a cool palm, patting and stroking his raspy beard. Mac struggled again when he leaned in, bringing his elbows up in an attempt to protect his face, but Dennis carelessly pushed his efforts aside and then his lips were against Mac's and the room was spinning and all Mac could do was part his own dry lips and allow the taste of Dennis to flood his mouth and quiet his racing mind.  
He had imagined this countless times in the creeping visions he tried not to picture when he was alone in his bed with a hand in his shorts. He had dreamed of Dennis's tongue in his mouth back in high school, waking up in his childhood room flooded with heat and shame as his sticky underwear cooled against his thigh, and these dreams and insistent unwanted fantasies had only intensified in the years they'd been living together. Now he found that Dennis didn't taste quite as he had in his dreams. He had imagined a sweetness, a hint of nectar in the kiss of his golden god, but now he tasted mint (Dennis had brushed his teeth; Mac momentarily cringed at the thought of his own hungover morning breath) and something sharp and cool, like citrus. He wanted to clasp his hands to Dennis's face, pull him in until they occupied the same space and merged into one being, but the cuffs rattled unforgivingly so he raised his own face to Dennis's instead, pushing his urgent tongue deeper, tender lips bruising against teeth, sloppy and desperate.  
Dennis allowed this to continue for another long moment and then, when he could feel Mac's heart racing through his shirt and his breath catching in quick urgent gasps, he pulled away and sat back. He was kneeling next to Mac on the bed, smirking down at him when Mac opened his eyes.  
"Was that as good as you imagined?" Dennis's voice was low, husky from last night's bellowing and now with lust as well.  
"Better" Mac sighed, not even questioning that Dennis had always known he was imagining it.  
"Good."

Dennis hopped off the bed again and Mac raised his head to follow him. He stood back for a moment, considering his options, then leaned over to Mac's waist and started unbuttoning his jeans. Mac brought his knees up, trying to curl in a ball or push the probing hands away, but Dennis glanced up at him with a dangerous glint in his eyes and murmured,  
"Do I need to tie your legs down as well?"  
Mac stopped resisting and allowed his jeans to be removed, obediently tilting his hips so Dennis could slide them down over his ass, kicking his feet loose from the denim folds and letting the jeans drop off the end of the bed. His black cotton briefs did nothing to hide the stiffness underneath, and Dennis smiled. He reached out and traced the shamrock tattoo on Mac's upper thigh with a light fingertip, enjoying the little gasp his touch elicited.  
He wanted to see all of Mac, lay him bare like a sacrifice on the altar, so he tugged the hem of Mac's shirt and pulled it up over his head. He couldn't remove it properly with the handcuffs in the way so he crumpled it around Mac's wrists and left it there. Mac took the fabric between his tingling fingers, twisting and stretching it anxiously as he waited for his captor's next move. Dennis admired his captive's firm chest, running both hands down from his collarbones to his waist to feel the hard muscle and draw another sharp breath from Mac's parted lips. He ghosted his fingertips up Mac's sides and Mac's ribcage arched beneath his skin as he hollowed his back and shuddered. Dennis's own hard-on was becoming difficult to ignore, straining against his jeans and aching for attention, but he redirected his focus onto Mac's body and steadfastly resisted the pleas of his own. He was all-powerful and he would not relinquish any of his dominion by giving in to pawing at himself - he had a lot more work to do here first.

Letting his hands trail down to Mac's hips, he curled his fingers in the waistband of his briefs. Mac gasped and began to struggle again, bringing his knees up protectively and kicking out to no avail.  
"No, Dennis, please..."  
It was one thing to kiss, to be touched, but he felt like once he was completely naked and at the mercy of the wolfish smile above, things would get completely out of hand. Would God ever forgive a sin with the magnitude of the intense desire that raged in the pit of his stomach? He wasn't sure he'd even be able to give voice to the lustful thoughts that consumed him, let alone confess them. It was too overwhelming, too big to be written off with a string of Hail Mary's. Dennis was watching his panicked face through heavy lidded eyes, enjoying his torment. He inched the briefs down until the first few dark hairs came into view.  
"Dennis!" Mac tried to kick out again but now Dennis was sitting on his legs, pinning them down. "Seriously dude, stop it now. Enough."  
Dennis paused again.  
"Mac, if you make one more sound I am going to have to gag you." His voice was low and steady, matter-of-fact. He continued to draw the waistband down, pulling it over Mac's ass without his assistance this time, grinning as he let Mac's dick spring free. It was harder than ever, thick and stocky, uncut. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it, after living with the guy for 20 years, but he'd never examined it at leisure like this.  
"Please," Mac's voice was barely more than a strangled squeak. "Please, Den." Dennis wasn't sure if he was begging to be left alone or to be touched, and Mac didn't seem sure either. Either way, Dennis had made a promise and now he would have to follow it through. He dismounted from his perch on Mac's legs and pulled the briefs all the way down, whipped them off and balled them up in his fist.  
"I told you what I would do," he admonished as he moved towards Mac's head. Mac cried out as Dennis grabbed his chin and bundled the cotton underwear into his mouth, stuffing it all in with firm unshaking hands. He gagged a little as the fabric grazed the back of his tongue, and his nostrils flared with panicked gasps. He could taste his own sweat, sour and stale after 30 hours in the same underwear. He yelled an indistinct curse and thrashed his head as much as he could. Dennis clamped a hand over his mouth and lowered his lips to Mac's ear.  
"Now will you be a good boy?" he murmured. Mac swallowed, his tongue dry against the cotton, and nodded. Dennis unclamped his hand from Mac's mouth but left the makeshift gag stuffed in. 

Dennis backed off again to take in the full effect. He looked upon his work and saw that it was good. His sacrificial lamb was stretched out helpless and exposed, skin pulled taut across his ribs by his upstretched arms, jaw clenched around choking fabric, cock straining tall toward the ceiling, chest heaving with every breath. Dennis shifted his jeans, aching against the unyielding denim, and considered removing them, but he decided his power was more complete if he remained fully clothed. He willed his dick to relax, give him some respite from the painful tension, but his superior control seemed to be failing him today. He readjusted again and returned his attention to Mac.

Mac felt Dennis climb onto the bed and swing his leg over to straddle his waist again. Dennis lowered his head and began tracing soft kisses across Mac's collarbone, then up to his neck and along his roughly stubbled jaw. He cupped Mac's face in his hands, ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, dropped the lightest of kisses across his closed eyelids. Every touch was gentle, reverent, a world away from the rough strength he'd used moments before. Mac felt giddy and drunk, like the bed was spinning beneath him, floating on the current of a lazy stream. He tried to breathe Dennis's name but it was stifled into a wordless sigh by the gag. Dennis's mouth moved down again, over his neck and past his shoulders, following the sparse trail of hair down his chest to his stomach. His touch was still light and feathery, making Mac gasp and arch his back with every ticklish flutter. Mac's panic had dissipated entirely now as he gave himself over to the thrill of being dominated, possessed by Dennis. He'd always belonged to Dennis, ever since they'd met as two angry teenagers, always prepared to follow this skinny, sullen boy to hell and back if he asked; it felt completely right and natural to give him everything now.

Dennis was still making his way down Mac's body. Now his kisses fell on sharp hipbones and trickled down the V-shaped groove between them, down, down until he felt the first wiry hairs under his lips and Mac groaned and rocked himself toward his mouth. _Oh, I don't think so,_ thought Dennis, _not yet._ He moved down further, shuffling his body back until he was almost at the end of the bed, and planted his mouth on the soft pale skin inside Mac's thigh. This was not a feather-light brush of lips - it was hard, intense, and felt like there would be a bruise.  
" _Nnggh!_ " Mac growled in frustration through the gag, bucking his hips up, begging for friction. Dennis skimmed his teeth against the delicate skin and gave him a playful nip, and Mac's breath caught in a desperate half-sob. He felt warm breath huff against his burning skin as Dennis chuckled cruelly.

Much as Dennis loved to torment Mac, his little game was having a similarly torturous effect on his own body and he couldn't ignore it any longer. He moved forward and rose to his knees with his crotch hovering unbearably close to the tip of Mac's aching cock, unbuckling his belt. Mac craned his head to watch, his chin crumpling under the unflattering angle, eyes wide as Dennis unzipped. Like Dennis, he too had glimpsed his roommate's dick a few times in the time they'd been living together (and of course there were the sex tapes), but he watched eagerly as it was finally released. He felt an odd jolt of pride when he saw how hard it was, knowing that his body had made that happen, and he tugged his wrists painfully against their restraints again in his desire to touch it, to bring it to relief.  
Dennis's skin prickled with heat, and he stripped off his jeans and shirt without ceremony. The cool air made goosebumps chase across his back. He wanted to tear the ball of fabric out of Mac's mouth and stuff himself inside, to force his full length down and make him gag and choke, but he planned to finish what he'd started here first. There would be plenty of time for that later.

The time for light kisses and gentle teasing was over. Mac was growing more desperate by the second, drinking in the sight of Dennis's naked body like a slavering hound staring down a steak. His heart was thumping so hard that Dennis could see the skin on his chest fluttering in time to the racing blood. Dennis resumed where he'd left off, with his mouth on Mac's inner thigh, and this time he wasn't going to skim past the most sensitive regions. After another intense kiss on the thigh, he moved up and laid the very tip of his tongue right at the base of Mac's cock, just above his balls. Mac writhed and clenched his eyes tight shut, trying not to make too much noise. Slowly, savouring every millimetre, Dennis drew his tongue up the length of the shaft. Dennis was shaking, almost as frantic as Mac. Almost, but not quite. Mac's groan was so shrill in its urgency, it was almost a scream. A fat drop of precum appeared and rolled down his length, retracing the path Dennis's tongue had just taken.  
Dennis admired his work for a second. Mac was on the verge of falling apart, his face pink and glistening with sweat, his hands clenched white-knuckled around the rails of the headboard to which he was cuffed, chest jumping erratically as he panted.  
"Do you think you've learned your lesson?"  
Mac nodded wildly, hair flopping and sticking to his damp forehead.  
"Are you ever going to abandon me again?"  
Mac shook his head vigorously. Dennis leaned forward across his chest to look him in the eye. Mac's dick grazed the firm contours of Dennis's abs and twitched with another clear trickle.  
"I want you to say it." He reached forward and pulled the briefs out of Mac's mouth, throwing them to the floor. Mac swallowed and tried to moisten his dry tongue.  
"I'll never abandon you again, Den." His low voice shook and caught in his throat.  
"Good."

Mac was so hypersensitive now that when Dennis laid his dick alongside Mac's and took them both firmly in his palm, he jumped as if he'd been branded with a fire iron, and the pool of molten gold spreading through his stomach glowed hotter still. Dennis started to work them both together, slowly at first, gradually building speed. The sound was filthy. Finally provided with the friction he'd been craving, Mac found himself greedy for more - he bucked his hips frantically, pushing himself against Dennis's unhurried hand. With his mouth freed he was able to sob out a litany of curses and pleas, begging Dennis for more, yelping his name like a sacred prayer. Dennis was glad he'd removed the gag.  
Dennis watched as every muscle in Mac's body began to clench and writhe, the glowing heat spreading through him from head to toe. When he was sure that the climax was just a few seconds away, he stopped abruptly.  
Mac opened his eyes to look pleadingly at him.  
"I wanna hear it again," Dennis commanded, his own voice now shaky and cracking. Mac was so lost in the sensations that it took him a moment to put together what Dennis was asking.  
"Dennis," he sighed, breathless and hoarse, "I am never going to leave you again. I'll never leave you."  
Dennis drew a deep, wobbly breath and parted his lips to reply, but couldn't summon a sound. He wrapped his hand back around them both and a moment later they were both drawing shuddering gasps and crying out wordless relief as the glowing heat finally overcame them.

When they were finished, sinking soft and relaxed into the mattress to catch their breath, Dennis reached up and released Mac's hands. Mac brought them down to wrap his arms around his golden god's thin body, rubbing his wrists and wincing as the blood flowed back to his fingers. For the second time in 24 hours, they fell asleep wrapped in one another's arms.


End file.
